Experiences of Hell
by GeneralAshton
Summary: The experience of one soldier and his encounter of hell on the battlefield... One-shot.


War is hell. This war in particular.

I collapse onto the dirt, soot-filled ground. The tank I used to ride on, a M1A2 Sherman, was now in flames. The poor crew of the machine never had a chance as I see the tank now lit up in bright orange and red flames. I swore I heard their pitiful, antagonizing screams after I jumped off the tank's back. My fellow soldiers didn't fare any better.

Most I see laying on the ground in a crumpled, burning mess. Some are dead, having faces of surprise, anguish, and fear for their last moments of life. Others still cling to it. Screaming and thrashing in pain, I know they cannot be saved. Their burns are too deep. Some limbs are gone. And all those "alive" are crying out in agony. Wishing that they did indeed die like the others.

And some are not even there. Atomized. Vaporized in a red flash. Gone without a trace. No body left. No person there.

I scramble for cover, clutching my M1 Garand. Funny how I remember the technical names, like what my rifle is called or the tanks I ride on. Yet, I am confused and frightened on this battlefield. I glance around to see more of my fellow countrymen. Another tank gets hit with a red flash, igniting it the same way as the one I rode on. It's turret is reduced to a stump of twisted metal, now searing hot with the flames. The bodies of other soldiers that rode atop of it are strewn around. All with those same faces of fear, pain, and surprise. Yet I had the unfortunate luck to witness the crew of that tank struggle to exit it's burning wreckage. Their burning bodies now lit up with searing hot flames. All screaming. All crying out for help. It's too late for them and they know it.

I continue to glance around in confusion. Men begin to attack. Another tank besides me unleashed it's cannon. The boom makes my ears ring as I clutch them painfully. I can hear the deafening roar of guns of all kinds. Machine guns. Rifles. Even pistols from the desperate ones. Ones that know they are going to die.

A soldier grabs me by my collar and begins to scream at me. My ears are still ringing. All I pick up are deafened commands that he barks at me while men continue to fight. More flashes of red continue to decimate soldiers. Sending tanks and men to their graves. I continue to look at him with a confused, dumbfounded look. Then again, aren't we all confused in this hellish fight?

He forcefully drags me from my little ditch before getting me back on my feet. I scramble up to follow him as he tugs me away to somewhere else. My mind is still racing but my body just keeps running. With a loud explosion that I feel near me, the soldier that is pulling me around crumples to the ground.

Dead. A fatal shrapnel wound that has pierced his steel helmet.

Although my mind wanted to stop and look at the man, my body continues to run. I run past the dead soldier. I just run. Just like a machine, I run and run and run. Past more dead. Past more that cling to life, yet know they will not hold on to it for much longer. Past the hell around me.

All around me, flashes of red and beams of heat cut down tanks and troops. They fire back, in a desperate fight for humanity. Fighting for our survival. But these mindless beasts of black and red fight for an unknown reason. Maybe they fight just for fighting. Maybe they don't consider it fighting. Maybe it's hunting, and we are the prey. Hell, maybe we aren't prey. We're just ants compared to them. As I see them exterminate more soldiers and more weaponry around me.

Exterminate. A fitting word.

To my surprise, I fall into a crater. It is a deep enough one to hide my entire body in. This time, my body complies to my mind as I come to a resting halt into this crater. I lay flat as I peek above. Few tanks oppose the alien beasts now. Men desperately fight, only to be cut down by the beams of red.

Red. Funny how fitting it is for this hellish scene.

I begin to notice my body. A little cut on my forehead drips a river of crimson to the bridge of my nose. I just casually wipe it off as I continue to watch the horror show in front of me. Hearing the wails of men and the deafening screeches of those demons. Seeing more flashes of red, knowing each one means another life gone. A life drifting into the winds like the ashes of the man it used to belong. Then silence.

Silence.

I could only see the scene in front of me. A barren battlefield which mechanical machines of tanks are now burning in smoldering wreckages. The fighters for humanity are strewn all over in agonizing heaps. Skeletons of tanks burn brightly like macabre candles. So do their crew, now burning corpses inside their metal coffins.

I am alone.

How am I spared from death? I simply ran like a coward. The men that stood and fought now lie dead by the dozens. Yet my cowardice to run and not stop running has spared me. From what exactly? The demons, decorated in black and red armor and having their beams of red still stand. Still marching forward like the machine I once was as I ran. Still preying on me. On humanity. And I'm their last ant to squish on this field. To exterminate.

Am I truly lucky to be alive? To cower here in my hole as these monsters inch closer. I can hear their metallic screeches. Taunts pointed at me. Their weird, crab-like legs inch forward over burning wrecks and dead soldiers. I only watch. That's all I can do. Was it wise for me to have ran? So I could meet my fate slowly? I should've died heroically with the others. Their deaths were heroic compared to my cowardice and frail demeanor. I should have fought for humanity than cower in my self pity and fear.

Fight I tell myself. I clutch my rifle with sweaty palms, yet I don't dare to run out and give my last moment of life. My mind is frustrated with me.

_Fight_.

No... I can't...

_Do not be a coward. Make you're last moment a moment of pride._

But I don't want to die.

_It's too late now. Fight with your dying breath._

...yes... I will fight.

_Louder_.

I will fight.

_Louder_!

I will fight!

I clutch my rifle tightly and begin to move, inch by inch, out of the crater I am in. I am it at my enemy. A neuroi turtle, as we call them. They look anything but. My rifle is aimed dead center at it. The thing is slowly marching through the smoke of the battlefield. A massive thing. With each step it takes, the ground shakes violently. I tremble, but I hold steady.

I fire.

_Bang_.

_Bang_.

_Bang_.

The empty shells from my rifle eject smoothly. They tumble to the ashy ground below as I fire. My shots just make dents on the monster. It doesn't even bother to kill me yet. I'm just desperately fighting a battle I know I cannot win. Yet I fire anyways.

_Bang_.

_Bang_.

_Bang_.

_Click_.

The magazine cartridge exits my rifle and flies into the air as I hear the familiar sharp, metallic ping of an empty Garand. It lands with a thud onto the dirt. I just awkwardly aim my empty rifle at the neuroi. It looms over me. It's just inspecting me. Taunting me. Laughing at my futile efforts. I feel tears rushing out f my eyes. Why am I crying? I knew I was going to die. Yet the tears keep coming. Dropping down onto the bloody earth.

I am scared. Terrified of my fate. Death is a cruel thing. How I am spared from it so I can meet it face to face by myself. My tears keep dropping as my enemy just looms over me in a taunting fashion. I let go of my Garand in defeat as the tears cover my face. Landing onto the ground in a loud 'thud'.

I curse the damn thing. I hate it. How cruel it is to spare me and witness my brothers-in-arms get slaughtered like cattle. Now I am alone to face my fate. Damn it all.

I slowly grab my pistol from my holster. Should I take my own life than let that creature take mine? Be the coward and let myself bring me to my maker?

I just drop my pistol in defeat. Of course, I'm too much of a coward for that.

It screeches that familiar screech and begins to glow red. My hand trembles. My heart is heavy, beating out of my chest with intensity. My tears continue to fall slowly as I angrily gaze at my killer. But I am angry at myself. I am a coward to just accept my fate like this. I just lower my head as I wait for my demise.

Goodbye.

_Ping_.

Ping?

I watch in surprise as the neuroi explodes into a dazzling display. White shards gracefully float in the air. Funny how a deadly monster as that dies in a spectacular, beautiful way.

I am alive?

I lower my pistol in shock. I'm spared? I just back away slowly before my knees give way. I collapse onto the ground and just sit there like a stupid baboon. Utterly dumbfounded. That is when I heard the sound of strikers in the air.

Of course. The guardian angels.

They fly overhead with grace as they lay waste upon the neuroi below. I hear more audible pings as more monsters die. They dodge the red beams with ease. I watch in awe as my saviors decimate the enemy that killed my platoon in a matter of minutes.

Then I cry. I begin to bury my head into my arms like a baby. Pathetic, yet who is to blame? The hell I've been through is enough to make anyone cry. My tears keep coming. I sob wondering why I was to be spared while the others were not. I was the coward, not them. Yet I have lived.

"M-Mister?"

I look up. In front of me is a young, brown-haired witch wearing a Fuso navy uniform. She just floats in front of me with her striker unit. Like a guardian angel. She looks at me with concern and worry.

"Are you alright? Are you injured?" She beckons. I just give a shake of my head to indicate I wasn't. The battle is still continuing with the witches and the neuroi. And I'm sitting here like a fool.

"A-Alright... Um... don't worry about the neuroi. We can handle it. I'm glad you are safe. I was thankful enough that I reached out to you before that neuroi got to you."

She hovers closer, but then clutches her ear. She quietly listens before making remarks back to whatever radio she has. She then faces back to me in a kind smile.

"I'll have to go now. Please stay safe and make it back to safety." I just watch as she begins to fly off.

No. Please don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone.

"W-Wait." I call out. She stops and turns around with curiosity.

"Ma'am... what is your name?"

"My name? My name is Yoshika Miyafuji." She says with a smile.

A smile. Something unfitting in this hell I've experienced. It radiates warmth. Kindness. Hope. Strength. Things I have lost in my time in hell. I wish that it would last forever. The witch then gives a kind farewell before regrouping with her squadron. I just watch as my saviors do battle with the demons here. I just sit on the ground as I wipe my tears away.

I feel hope come back to me. These witches face the same horrors as me, yet remain strong. Maybe they are the key to ending this hell on earth...

Yoshika Miyafuji. A name I will not forget.

A true angel in the sky.

* * *

**Hello. I decided to take a little detour in my writing of the usual stories. I decided to take a more darker tone in this one-shot. Inspired by SillyGoy and his story, Thoughts, I decided to write this story out of my own boredom. I think I could've done better, but whatever.**

**I'll be continuing my others stories like _Operation Geronimo_ or _Titans and Angels_ in between my busy school schedule, but I hope you can enjoy this little work I made. Anyways, peace!**


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